


The Gold Light

by glim



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1920s, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Friends to Lovers, Jazz Age, M/M, Memories, The Great Gatsby References
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-21
Updated: 2016-08-21
Packaged: 2018-08-10 05:44:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7832617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glim/pseuds/glim
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lancelot finds Merlin again, as he always does, but he's changed; they've both changed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Gold Light

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Pornalot 2016 Challenge 2: Rare. (Rare Pair + Rare AU setting.)
> 
> Fills the 'rare pairs' square on my Trope Bingo card for Round 7.

Lancelot walks down to the lake and stands at the edge of the pier. He'd like to think that it was his own ambition that led him here, but he's beginning to believe that there is a force, greater than his own desire, that has brought him to this moment. 

The light that flickers in the distance is faint, clouded by the fog of time and memory, and only glows bright when magic shivers in the air. 

Lancelot turns to find Merlin behind him, as he knew he would, and draws Merlin in close against his side. 

"I can still see it, even now," Merlin says. He holds his hand out as if to reach across Avalon to cup the light in his palm, then lets it fall to his side. "Can you see it?"

Lancelot nods, but he can't see what Merlin sees: his dream fulfilled, his king returned, the world made whole again. 

The war changed him; the Great War had changed all of them, and there are still nights when Lancelot wakes, shivering, his throat raw with the cries he could not let out on the battlefield. There is no music loud enough, no whiskey strong enough, no car fast enough, or party big enough that will take those cries from his throat and render him whole again, too.

And Merlin... christ, _Merlin._ He'd hoped so hard, he'd built his life around that hope, came to the lake of Avalon as the world fell apart and clung to that hope. 

"It's in the past, Merlin. You can't--" Lancelot won't say the words, though, and he knows Merlin may never be able to hear them. 

"I can. But not in this lifetime, I suppose. Not this future." Merlin watches the light for a few more moments until it glows gold, reflecting the light in his own eyes. When the glow fades into fog, he turns to Lancelot. "Come back to the house. It's quiet now, dinner's over, everyone's gone home. I'd like you to come back with me."

"I will. You know I will." Lancelot brings Merlin's hand to his face and kisses his knuckles. 

They walk to the house in silence, hands linked, and Lancelot feels his chest swell each time Merlin grasps his hand more tightly. He doesn't want to relive the past, he doesn't want to see Camelot rise again and he doesn't want to be a soldier again. He just wants this: his friend, his first and dearest friend, and now his closest. 

When he turns to Merlin as they walk inside, he pulls Merlin into his arms and rests his forehead against Merlin's. "What about the present? What if you don't think about the past or the future?"

Merlin closes his eyes and gives a tiny nod. When he opens them, there is a new light in his eyes, as if he's only realized that yes, he can have this moment, he can have it now and not have to look back or forward. 

"You've always known me best," he says, and leans in to kiss Lancelot. "You knew me first." 

The knowledge thrills through Lancelot as it had in another time, and his desire rushes through him, gold-tinged and molten. He kisses Merlin back once, and again, and so fully that they are both breathless in seconds. 

And maybe they can neither let go of the past nor relive it, and maybe Lancelot will always remember the first time he held Merlin in his arms, the first frantic kisses and touches in the hushed afternoon of a quiet castle. 

But he'll remember this, too: the gasp of Merlin's breath as he kisses Merlin, the warmth of Merlin's body, the soft sound of murmured desire against his ear, and the arch of Merlin's body against his own, his hardness, his eagerness. 

Lancelot waits until Merlin's satisfied, sated and sleepy-smiling, before he presses inside him. He holds onto that moment as long as he can, and comes with a hoarse, deep sound. 

"Don't leave this time," Merlin says as they curl around each other atop the tangled sheets. 

"I have to go to work in the morning." Lancelot kisses Merlin's cheek, then his lips. 

"That's not what I mean."

"I know. I won't."


End file.
